White Blank Page
by BunnyKat
Summary: Helena comes back to town to finally finish business with her father, demanding Oliver's assistance once more. However, her end goal is one that Felicity cannot allow to come to pass. Post 2x10.
1. Chapter 1

Title: White Blank Page

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this 'verse, this would be happening come end of March. But alas, I don't.

Summary: Helena comes back to town to finally finish business with her father, demanding Oliver's assistance once more. However, her end goal is one that Felicity cannot allow to come to pass. Post 2x10.

Do you ever have those days where lines from a show/movie filter into your brain, but then you suddenly realize; 'Hey wait, that's not actually from said show/movie.' And if not, well then, enjoy the fruits of my insanity!

* * *

_And can you kneel before the king; And say I'm clean – Mumford & Sons_

"So, how does one actually get into your tight leather pants?" Oliver paused in placing his bow back in the holder, head tilting slightly waiting for the inevitable follow up statement. He had returned from patrol, feeling Felicity's eyes on him as he had descended the stairs, somehow knowing she was going to have something to say. Though not that exact sentence per se. "Not like that… particularly…"

"Saying there's a platonic circumstance to that question?" he asked, clearly attempting to keep the amusement out of his voice. He moved to where Felicity sat in her chair, at ease to tease her when they were one on one like this. Using her fingers to help her speak, she attempted to dig herself out of the verbal hole she created.

"You just… seem to switch from suit to suit quickly. And speaking from an uncomfortable personal Halloween experience years back, leather pants are not easy to get in or out of." He didn't answer, instead taking up the space just off to her side, waiting for her to continue. She flushed lightly at his proximity and expectant gaze, but as usual refused to back down.

"So which proved more difficult on your end, getting in or out of your pants?"

"Hey, I asked you first. You don't share, then neither do I," she countered, a hint of pink flushing her chest.

"Then I suppose some things will remain a mystery. At least for now." The implications in the comment lingered between them as the pink on her skin became more defined. His ability to so strongly affect Felicity with a single comment did not go unnoticed by him. Since their argument and reconciliation following her return from Central City, he had been sure to take more time to express his appreciation for her. This appreciation inadvertently led him to be more playful with her awkward foot in mouth occasions. Tearing himself away from the moment, Oliver stepped back unzipping his hood. "You should go home, sleep in. It's the weekend."

"Actually there's a few things at QC that I want to take care of in the morning. Just waiting to make sure you got back alright," she stated, slipping into her coat and swinging on her purse. Her flow of words stopped suddenly. "You are alright? Right?"

He paused briefly in his movements, touched by her forethought. Finally removing the garment he gestured to indicate the lack of injury. Feeling guilt at watching her stifle a yawn, he offered, "Don't go in tomorrow. I'm serious, it's the weekend and you've earned a little relax time. I'll stop by and see what I can do."

"Positive you can manage to answer a phone call or two without me?" Felicity teased, pulling her ponytail out of her coat.

"Almost," he admitted back in their light banter. Turning to a more genuine tone, he insisted, "You didn't have to do this. Wait up for me. There hasn't been a lot of trouble lately."

"I didn't mind," she shrugged. "Plus with the amount of trouble there hasn't been, it's probably time for some to rear its head. Wanted to make sure you didn't need any stitching tonight."

"Thank you for your confidence," he replied with gracious amusement, eliciting a small smile from her.

Felicity stopped her exit just in front of him, absent mindedly touching the bullet scar by his collar bone. The same one that brought them together. His skin heated under her touch, the odd way she seemed to hold a claim over this spot caused his stomach to drop. Oliver's own hand covered her fingers, but found himself unable to remove them from their place. A beep from her computer station brought them back to their senses. Felicity pushed her lips together as she dropped her arm, but not before stroking the skin one last time he noticed. "Just trying to stay realistic."

To stop himself from doing anything overly hasty, he merely nodded, taking a step back from her inherent warmth. "Good night, Felicity."

"Good night, Oliver."

X~X~X~X~X

The elevator binged indicating its arrival to the top floor of Queen Consolidated. Oliver sighed stepping off, Diggle shortly behind him. "You didn't have to come in either, Diggle. You should take the day off too. Go for a walk, take in a show, do something that isn't this for once."

"And the fact I could tell you the same thing is just the reason I am here." Oliver grimaced at the inevitable turn around he knew to come, he just thought he could postpone it awhile. His friend continue to implore him as they entered the windowed foyer to his office. "I'm serious, man, you're here for an hour, two tops, then I am making sure you have a do nothing day as well."

"Pretty sure your dance card just filled up, boys"

Helena Bertinelli, donned in a purple and with a satisfied smirk, sat in his office chair with designer shoes propped up on the desk. Oliver had expected her return for some time now, but seeing her form with his own eyes served as a surprise. He steeled his muscles, feet discretely sliding into a fight position for anything she may throw at them; literally of metaphorically.

"Hello, lover."

Diggle drew his sidearm, safety clicked off the moment it was aimed. Her only response to the weapon on her was a bored tick of an eyebrow. "How did you get in here?" asked Oliver in a harsh whisper.

"Security let me in," she replied with a head tilt. With obvious motions due to the gun on her, she reached to the large desk sliding off a plastic visitors pass. Displaying it between fingers, she flung it at the two men to land on the floor. "Even with my disgraced family name; it's still a recognizable family name. Something you're utterly familiar with, no doubt."

His eyes ticked to the legitimate pass, then back to her. Emotional surges battled within his chest; tearing between anger at her arrival, concern at her intent, frustration at that little feeling that he still cared about her. None of which he allowed to penetrate his facial features. "Why are you here, Helena?"

"My father."

Set jaw, Oliver shook his head firmly. "No. We are not playing this game again. He's back in jail, the plea deal fell through –"

Her feet slipped off the desk, slamming to the ground to interrupt his sentence. Standing, she smoothed the invisible wrinkles of her sleek dress before stepping deliberately towards him. "Well there's been another. And I know for a fact he's not being held on prison grounds currently –"

"I said no. We've been down this road, I will not help you murder him."

"That's not why I'm here, not initially at least," Helena reflected, stopping at the admission. Intrigued by the afterthought of the statement, he gestured for her to proceed. Through hooded eyes as though letting him in on a secret, she continued. "There's been a contract taken out on him, a professional hit. I want you to help me stop it."

Diggle groaned, still at the ready at his back, "You've got to be kidding."

"Do you seriously expect me to believe you returned to Starling to save your father's life?" Oliver asked with a disbelieving laugh.

"What you should believe is that when he dies, I will be the one who pulls the trigger." The conviction in her voice would have made his blood run cold had he not anticipated the response.

"Then forgive me for asking; what's the point of lending our help?"

"Because, point of interest, the man that's been hired is one code name; Deadshot." Her gaze shifted to Diggle's not so subtly by the end of her point. "If you know where to look, it's not terribly hard to find a pressure point on even you."

Oliver's stomach dropped at the revelation. He saw as his partner lowered his fire arm, coming closer. One look at the man showed the weariness and hope that this news brought. There was every likelihood she was lying to them, but the sake of his friend they had to look into it.

Clearly sensing she had them trapped, Helena offered a harrowing million watt smile. "Shall we get to work?"

X~X~X~X~X

Felicity folded her coat over her arm as she descended the stairs to the Arrow Cave, the noise level of the arguing voices covering her footsteps. "What hot mess of a debate did I come in late on?" she chastised rounding the pillar. She stopped short to find Oliver and Diggle standing cross armed and rigid with Helena Bertinelli mere feet away. "Ah."

For a moment it seemed as if the room was deafened by silence while she nervously ticked her gaze from person to person to person wondering what would come next. Diggle faced her, turning his back to the other woman. To her, the drop in his guard indicated his distraction. "What are you doing here? We didn't call you."

"Followed the advice to relax a little, then decided on a whim to ping your cell phones, noticed both of you were here, thought 'hmm, probably not a good sign,' then came over," she rushed out. Side eyeing the huntress in the room, she purposefully began to walk to her computer set up across the way. "Looks like I was right."

When she walked past the trio of individuals Oliver gripped her arm, pulling her slightly towards him. "Go home. You can't be here."

"What? This is a 'private thing'? Notice how well that worked last time." A little put off by his dismissal she tugged her arm back, turning to jab a pointed finger at Helena. "Do not tie me up again."

She smirked in response. "Only if you ask nicely."

The painfully unmoving quiet filtered back into the room before Diggle once again broke it. "Somebody hired Lawton to kill Frank Bertinelli. We need to find out who that someone was."

Sorrow filled her chest, as she looked to her friend. Whenever this ghost from his past returned a cloud seemed to surround everything in his personality, and it just wasn't fair. Diggle nodded in appreciation for her unspoken support. Resuming her approach to the desk, she affirmed, "I'm on it."

"No, forget them," snapped Helena in an impatient tone. "You need to focus on where they're hiding my father."

"Of course that's what you'd want," observed Oliver, moving himself by Felicity's side to be between her and Helena. As she began typing she felt warm comfort by the gesture, idly wondering if it was something he was consciously doing.

"Seems like you'd want to find them and send them a gift basket," Felicity commented setting up search algorithms. "Not a problem to do both. I do have the ability to multitask."

"With how long it took you to find my father last time, that will take you forever," huffed Helena, crossing her arms in agitation.

Felicity spun her chair around to see the other woman literally curling her lips in furious disapproval. She couldn't help but grin at the lack of confidence. "You honestly think it takes me over 30 minutes to hack into the FBI database? Please," she scoffed. "That was stalling."

Helena's eyes narrowed in reappraisal, as if in the look she could glean everything she needed from her. "You definitely are worth the second look."

Mildly unnerved by the statement, she was about to say more when Oliver's heavy hand met her shoulder. Looking up at him, it was clear he begged her to say no more. Biting her tongue Felicity covered his hand with hers offering a tight smile, which he briefly returned.

"So what do we do with her in the meantime?" questioned Diggle, interrupting the moment. Both looked down; with he dropping physical contact to step back to the conversation and she spinning back to her monitors. Though Felicity couldn't actually see behind her, she could still feel his familiar nearness. Given the seriousness of the business at hand, she struggled to ignore the flutter in her chest that hadn't subsided since the night before.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: White Blank Page

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own.

Summary: Helena comes back to town to finally finish business with her father, demanding Oliver's assistance once more. However, her end goal is one that Felicity cannot allow to come to pass. Post 2x10.

A/N: The talk between Felicity and Helena was what inspired this fic; harkening back to that bit of insanity I mentioned last chapter. Gotta love crazy Helena. Enjoy all!

* * *

_A white blank page and a swelling rage; you did not think when you sent me to the brink_

If anyone had asked, Felicity was annoyed. Not that there was anyone around to ask as the other three people who were in the basement with her earlier decided to trail up to the upper club level per Oliver's suggestion. He told her to call when she got something. Leaving her all alone. To work. Alone. She heaved a sigh of frustration as she willed her programs to calculate quicker.

As soon as she leaned her head down to tap the table top, the beep of a positive match went off. Spinning to her phone, she sent a quick message upstairs. Hearing footsteps coming from the stairs, she announced, "I think I've made headway on finding Deadshot."

"So he's definitely here." Diggle's statement was not meant to be mistaken for a question as he rounded to the front of her computers.

Eyes flicking up, she bit her lip giving her affirmative. "Yeah."

"And what about finding my father?" demanded Helena. Her urgent tone seemed stressed, something that almost bothered Felicity.

"Oh, I found the safe house Frank Bertinelli is being held at before you guys, you know, abandoned me down here," she pointed out, slight bitterness lacing her words as she looked to Oliver. He did not return the glance.

"Where?"

"He's in town," she answered elusively, focused on the monitors and bringing forth various accounts and diagrams she had looked into. "After getting that address I started sweeping nearby buildings for anything out of the norm. Problem was everything in this part of town screams just a little bit out of the norm. You want to be a shady person, this is the sector to do it. Drug deals, cheaters, under ground gambling; you pick it. So, instead I decided to look for something behaving normally. Someone who paid a room up for days instead of a few hours, someone who received emails or phone calls that weren't necessarily from overseas."

Helena made a 'tsk' noise with her teeth, her lips quirking smugly, "That's a very vague list."

"A vague list that came up with only two possible outcomes." Observing her face falter from her self righteous demeanor was the highlight to Felicity's day. Well, second highest. Seeing Oliver behind her barely not keep a prideful smile down topped the unofficial list. "They might lead to nothing, but it's probably worth a look."

Not even needing a prompt she sent the information to Oliver and Diggle's phones. Upon the beep of the message arrival, Oliver went to the display case to remove the hood. Before he could reach it, Helena stepped in the way. "I'm coming too."

Oliver scoffed, trying to brush her to the side. The brunette took his arm, pulling it up to attempt a hold; but he easily rebuffed the move. Having her in what appeared to be a relatively simple hold, he sternly rasped, "Not a chance. It's just recon. Don't want you getting too trigger happy."

"I'll stay with her," offered Diggle, effectively breaking the stare off between the two warriors. "I've got a few calls to make anyway."

"And I'm going to keep running down the money trail," added Felicity, observing their closed off shoulders. She was not too pleased to be counted out of the conversation. "In case anyone was interested."

Helena stepped back, ripping her arm from the hold. She backed up until she leaned against a steel table, only breaking eye contact and the palpable tension when she suddenly found her nails extremely enticing. Felicity sucked in a deep breath, raising her eyebrows as she turned back around to her work; leaving Oliver to get dressed to investigate, Diggle to his private conversation, and Helena to loiter.

What Felicity didn't expect to feel was Oliver's warm hand pressed to her back. She jumped lightly, peering up to his concerned expression. She knew what he was going to say before he licked his lips to request, "I'd prefer you did that from somewhere else."

"Somewhere else meaning away from her." His gaze ticked down as he sighed deeply, telling her she had hit the nail on the head. Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice, "I'm not stupid. Why don't you want me anywhere near her?"

"It's complicated."

"Is this some sort of psycho ex thing? Because I know you two slept together, I know you cared a lot about her. None of this is anything new."

A muscle in his cheek twitched, emotional walls still up but wavering just enough. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" she pleaded. When he sighed again bouncing the bow in his hand, she knew she was close to getting through to him. His hesitance to admit anything was nothing new, but Helena was a relatively recent player in his list of personal demons. The things that had transpired between her and Oliver were, for all intents and purposes, public amongst them. His reluctance indicated an issue beyond Helena. Felicity tilted her head sideways, trying to catch his eye at a different angle. "Come on. Don't hold out on me like this. Please."

"Anything you two want to share with the class?"

Helena's snide side comment broke the moment. Felicity sat up clearing her throat unnecessarily as Oliver strode towards the stairs out. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Aren't you going to threaten me to behave?" Oliver merely stopped inches from her, giving her a pointed stare before continuing his exit. The door up top closed leaving the basement quiet with the exception of Diggle's muffled voice yards away. Felicity didn't realize she had spun her chair again until Helena gradually turned her head to face her. The not so subtle turn unsettled the blonde deep down, the hollowness she saw in the other girls face made it difficult to breathe for a moment. Pointing to the tech at her back as a desperate excuse, she then awkwardly returned to her work. She wasn't certain of the time that passed before Helena asked, "Who is he talking to, anyways?"

"No idea, none of my business, and therefore; definitely none of yours." Felicity was almost positive Lyla was on the other side of the line, but wasn't willing to offer that information. Her hacking speed was slowed by the consistent need to watch the other woman observe the lair. Helena's wide eyes scanned everything ceiling to floor and the bits in between, wandering slowly around. Stopping at tool drawer, the huntress used one finger to slide it open revealing medical supplies. "Close that," Felicity ordered eyes glancing over the large monitor. Helena simply raised an eyebrow before lightly shutting the drawer. "I arranged everything to have a place so we know where it is when it's needed."

"So you're the one who redecorated down here?"

"Yes. I guess you could say it was a summer project."

Pursing her lips with faint approval, she ran her hand across the table holding the arrow display. The blonde pushed down a spike of anxiety at her proximity to pointed weapons. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Diggle's attention to every move the other woman made regardless of his phone call. "You certainly added your womanly touch down here."

"In a very sleek, modern, utilitarian way. I suppose, yes?" she offered now turned to give her complete attention, uncertain if the comment was an insult or compliment.

"Oliver's certainly allowed you to get close since I was last in town." The brunette moved towards the table Felicity worked at. "I mean, he trusts you an awful lot, especially if you're organizing his personal effects."

"Again, I suppose, yes."

"And yet you two have yet to sleep together."

Felicity faltered in her relatively impassive demeanor, face flushed and stomach dropping. Pushing her glasses up unnecessarily, she replied finally flustered, much to her annoyance. The stab of jealous regret lingering in her gut did not help her mood. "No. But I fail to see how the two connect."

"Heard about that nasty business with the Count a few months ago," she continued on, leaning on the table to the blonde's side as she tucked a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. Sarcasm and disdain dripped from her voice like a poison. "I found it rather interesting, particularly the part where he died with several arrows in his chest. Despite Oliver's new found mission and vow to not kill, I read the Count probably died before his body struck the car on the street below him."

"Are you going to keep babbling, which is something coming from me, or is there an actual question?"

"The unnamed employee he kidnapped was you, wasn't it?" The blonde cut eye contact as guilt dug in her heart, attempting to turn her attention back to her work. Helena smirked smugly. "It's amazing to me, how much a person can say when they don't speak."

Trying to appear unmoved by her words, she hurried out, "Yes, I was in the office. But what–"

"He has gone out of his way, to extremely difficult lengths, to not kill anybody since the Glades were destroyed. Except… when it comes to you." Helena leaned in close, breath tickling Felicity's ear. The level of emptiness in her whisper caused a tingle to run down Felicity's spine. But not one from fear of the verbal threat. "That's the only reason I haven't tied you up, yet. I know what my fate holds when that happens."

"Hey, back off," ordered Diggle. Finished with his call, he crossed to the room to where the two girls sat closely. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know, John. A little interior decorating, boys, bondage. The typical girl stuff," replied Helena, pushing off from the table. Heels clacking as she once again took in the architecture, appearing bored with what transpired around her.

He made sure to have eye contact with Felicity, nonverbally asking if she were alright. Grateful for the interruption, she smiled lightly and nodded. Turning back to study the code on her computer, once again a shudder chilled her as she contemplated Helena's last private comment. Something about it did not settle right with her.

X~X~X~X~X

The first address was correct though Lawton had already left, but not by more than a few hours. Traces of Curare were found around the night stand, indicating his preparation for his imminent target. Diggle's call into Lyla proved more helpful as everything now came down to an A.R.G.U.S. assisted sting operation. Frank Bertinelli was to have a meeting with law enforcement at a secondary safe house, meaning he would have to be transported to said location. A.R.G.U.S agents would replace the regularly scheduled transport officers while Oliver and Diggle hid in around the perimeter.

After much debate it was decided Helena was to come along, just without the courtesy of her crossbow or any other projectile weapons. So here she stood, masked and in the black and purple suit she obtained from Oliver. As Diggle packed the necessary tech and Oliver restocked his arrows, Helena appeared to be wandering aimlessly around the basement. Felicity kept discrete watch, noticing her actually pacing in a figure eight pattern and muttering to herself. Though she couldn't actually hear what was being said, the facial ticks and lack of sparkle in her eyes showed the turmoil of rock bottom.

Drumming her fingers on the smooth table surface, Felicity bit her lip struggling to decide if now was the right time to mention her suspicions. As the two men double checked their gear whilst heading to the exit, Helena faced her to blow a kiss and a sarcastic wave in her direction. The action went unnoticed by the others present, but it was what caused Felicity to stand so forcefully her chair slammed back a few feet. "Oliver, wait, I need to talk to you."

Furrowed brow, he shook his head signaling this was not the time. "It can wait."

"No, now." She came forward to take his arm, leading him back to the work space. Indicating with a flick of her wrist that the others should head up, she added, "He'll follow in a minute."

Diggle led Helena out of the room. Once the sound of their footfalls vanished, Oliver sighed, "What?"

"It's about Helena," she rushed out, knowing he was annoyed at the delay she just caused. "We talked while you were out earlier and I'm worried about some of the things she said."

"Hey, you don't need to," his hand came up to grasp her arm in a reassuring manner. Though she usually relished physical contact with him, it did little to assuage the worry mounting in her. "We do this, then she leaves."

"That's exactly why I'm worried." Clearly confused, he dropped his arm to allow her to continue. Heaving a breath as she massaged her forehead, she laid her apprehensions on the table. "Oliver, she has a death wish. Once her father is gone, her mission is completed. She has nothing else to live for."

"Then she leaves town for good. Figures out her life elsewhere."

"No. I'm pretty sure she's going to get you to kill her."

He exhaled a hollow laugh. "How? Is she going to run and jump onto one of my arrows?"

Felicity didn't have to speak, she simply tapped her fists together as she tightened her lips together. It didn't take long for Oliver to connect the dots as he let out a growl of anger, turning away to rest his hands on the counter and hang his head. Barely able to keep tears out of her eyes she stepped up, hand hovering over his back for a moment before setting it on him. "I don't want to be the reason you kill again. I'm not worth it, not that burden."

She didn't realize he had turned until she felt the weight of him wrapped around her. She tensed momentarily at the hug before returning it, burying her face in the green leather and breathing in its scent deeply. His words were slightly muffled by her hair, "Of course you're worth it. You're always worth it, Felicity."

"It's time to go," called a tense Diggle from the top of the stairs.

Leaning back, he put on his grin and bear it reassuring smile. "I'll keep a close watch on her. And I think it's time we have a talk when I get back."

"Promise?"

Oliver took a beat as though truly considering her simple question, before leaning in to press his lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes as the simple action warmed her inside and out. "Promise."

X~X~X~X~X

For Felicity, the worst part of a mission was the radio silence. Comm links could easily be hacked, but someone, most likely Deadshot, jammed all communication channels they were rendered useless. No CCTV's to watch either. The never ending money trace continued to run on her far left screen. So she sat straight, eyes closed, forehead tipped in her clasped hands.

Nearly two hours after their departure her phone vibrated on the shiny surface of her desk. Clicking the earpiece to answer she spilled out, "What happened? Is everyone alright? Or is someone dead? Why did the comms go down? Where are the –"

"Felicity," came Oliver's voice, calming her rapid fire of questions instantly. "Frank Bertinelli's dead, we were too late for that. Lawton killed him."

"And what about Lawton himself?"

"I put an arrow around his kneecap." Felicity gave a twinge at the visual there. "Then some A.R.G.U.S. agents over ran him. Pretty sure he's in critical condition, but he deployed some sort of tech block around the building. It's why we couldn't stay in contact. Dig needs to stay behind to be debriefed, but we're pretty much done here."

"And how does Helena feel about this new development?"

His pause was more than enough to answer her question. "She…disappeared in the chaos following the kill shot."

The far left screen beeped, numbers no longer scrolling across its surface as a name and location popped up. After back pedaling through various accounts, the payments for Deadshot were all paid from Barcelona by one H. Hamnet. She pushed down a wave of nausea as her college history of British literature course filtered to the front of her mind.

"Oh, crap! She played us!" exclaimed Felicity, gripping onto her earpiece. "It was Helena. She's the one who paid Lawton to take out her father."

"Are you sure? Did the trace come back to her?"

"Not specifically, but it came back to one H. Hamnet."

"Is that name supposed to ring a bell?" he questioned with a frustrated tone.

Felicity typed away to find security footage of the vengeful huntress setting up the bank account as she patiently explained to the man on the line. "Hamnet. As in the child of William Shakespeare who died at age 11. As in the one who inspired the play Hamlet."

"Didn't we establish when we met that I don't do Shakespeare?" he queried again, causing her lip to momentarily quirk up at the memory.

"Basically, to parallel Helena's life, Hamlet is about an heir who is betrayed by the patriarch of the family and strives to kill him for revenge. And in the end he gets his revenge, only to die himself." Helena's taunts from earlier echoed in her ears, worry gripping at her gut. "I found security footage, it's definitely her. You sure she's still not there?"

"Positive," explained Oliver with gritted teeth. "I'm working on tracking her down now."

Suddenly feeling exposed she stood slowly, spinning to observe her surroundings. "Come back here," she requested, voice cracking with nerves.

"Is she with you?"

"Not yet," Felicity whispered, working to keep her tremors down. "Call it a hunch. And hurry."

"Stay on the line, I am heading back, I'll be there –"

His sentence was cut off by the thwack of a cross bolt imbedding into her mobile phone. Angry she couldn't keep the shriek of surprise down, Felicity jumped looking at where the flying object originated. Helena's empty smile greeted her, elbow cocked with the crossbow pointed towards the ceiling. In her other hand were zip ties. Offering the bits of plastic, she taunted, "This is me asking nicely." She then aimed the weapon at her and Felicity felt her pulse quicken in fear. "But I kind of hope you don't make it easy."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: White Blank Page

Author: Bunny

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I just enjoy playing in the sandbox of these characters, they're not mine.

Summary: Helena comes back to town to finally finish business with her father, demanding Oliver's assistance once more. However, her end goal is one that Felicity cannot allow to come to pass. Post 2x10.

A/N: How great was Helena's return on the show? She was still her special kind of crazy, but I like how they muted her down at the end. *sigh* Anyhoo, here's the next part of my version of her return. Just saying, things are going to go a bit differently…

* * *

_Tell me now, where it was my fault; in loving you with my whole heart_

Helena wasn't being subtle about her location in the slightest. Oliver knew the instant Felicity was cut off that the other woman was there and despite being only seven minutes out; he would be too late. He barreled down to the underground portion of the club, bow at the ready yet heart rate high, to find a cross bolt lodged in the center monitor. A piece of paper stuck to it. With control impressive for the level of rage coursing through his veins, he evenly tore off the message. "It finishes here, lover," it stated with an address leading to an occasionally used warehouse on the edge of the Glades.

Crumpling the note with a furious growl he threw it across the space. He had known Felicity was right about Helena, he just didn't anticipate her to move so quickly. Accepting he needed backup and with Diggle indisposed for an unknown amount of time, he whipped out his phone on his way up the stairs.

"Detective. I need your help. Right now."

With jolted words he gave his brief explanation and the good former detective agreed to meet without hesitation. Arriving at the warehouse less than half an hour later, Oliver climbed up to the top of the building while Lance entered on the opposite side ground level. Per the quick plan Lance had called backup, sirens waiting 3 blocks down believing that to be where the vigilante was. Oliver had made it clear to him that his only job was to clear Felicity out of there as fast as possible.

Oliver slid in through the skylight, his boots lightly tapping the grating of the upper area. The warehouse was stocked with large crates, plenty of hiding places for her cat and mouse game. The air felt thick due to anxiety and he thought he moved too slow for the urgency of the situation. Deep down, he knew how this was going to end. Helena would get what she wanted; though not as a first resort, he was prepared to take her life. As days passed, he became more and more aware of his need to keep Felicity safe. How he would do anything to ensure her to never go through any of the horrors he had faced.

Hopping from one wooden box to another, he quickly scanned each area for signs of life. Clearing a particularly long set of boxes, he found Felicity's form laying curled up on the concrete; gagged, blindfolded, and bound by her feet and hands. Heaving a deep breath he struggled to keep his emotions compartmentalized for the time being, resisting the overwhelming urge to rush down to free her himself. He wouldn't lie and say he didn't start to move towards her, but Lance came into view. His firearm was out as he checked around the crate corners and up on top before kneeling next to the bound girl.

The other man began to remove the bindings from Felicity; removing the blind fold first followed immediately by the gag. Oliver could hear her sharp intake of breath and, though he didn't hear, could tell Lance offered comforting words to her as he kept peering around for an attack. Using a knife he started on the thick ropes around her legs, eventually starting on the ones around her wrists.

Instinctually knowing Helena was nearby he began to jump from crate to crate and past metal pillars, eyes trailing down every dark aisle. Out of view for no more than three seconds Oliver felt his stomach clench at the sound of a muffled thump, Felicity's surprised cry, and the crumple of a body hitting the floor. Leaping off the large box to the pavement he saw the officer unconscious on the ground and the Huntress standing before her hostages. She aimed her weapon at Felicity, whispering out her warning, "Don't move."

"Same goes for you." Oliver announced calling attention to himself, landing on the floor less than twenty feet from the other's in the room. He could see Lance's chest rising and Felicity obeying as she rubbed her wrists from the burn, taking a moment to indicate she was overall unharmed. Pushing down the swell of relief as he knew they were not yet out of the woods, he refocused as the brunette turned towards him. "You don't have to do this. You weren't the one who pulled the trigger on your father tonight."

"I paid to make sure it would happen, but you figured that out. Or rather, blondie here did," she amended, giving a not so gentle kick to Felicity's side. He pulled the string back more at her wheezed squeak of pain. "I even managed to get a note to daddy letting him know that when the time came, it was my doing. I hear he had been living in absolute terror for days."

"Yield Helena."

"I'm warning you. I will kill her, then tell everyone your real identity." Her lips pulled back into a calculated, mocking smile. "Pretty sure only one of those things you can live with."

"I can disarm you."

"Then I'll share your secret, and hunt her down anyway," she counter proposed, not flinching in the slightest in her argument. "No matter your choice, you loose."

Oliver's brain worked overtime, trying to find an alternative option. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Felicity's gaze flicked from the Huntress to Lance's semi-conscious form prone just a few feet from her. With Helena's seemingly focused on him standing at the ready across the building, the blonde scooted back a bit. He could see the fear in her motions, but knew she had an idea. His grip tightened as he willed her to not do anything risky.

As soon as she reached the former detective Helena barked out, "I told you don't move!"

The bolt in her crossbow released, lodging itself into her thigh. Felicity screamed out in pain, instinctually grasping onto the thigh that now had a foreign object sticking out of it. As soon as she had pulled the trigger, Oliver simultaneously released the notched arrow. In spite of her pain, Felicity cried out, "Stop! You can't kill her!"

Helena stood straight up, bolt already reloaded and aimed at Felicity's throat, his arrow protruding from the shoulder of her opposite arm. He had come closer, another arrow drawn, ready for the take down. His shoulders tense, the next shot would be a kill shot. A feeling of foreboding coursed its way through him, combining with the adrenaline and fury.

The brunette laughed, a chilling vacancy in her voice. "You have got to be kidding. You still can't do it."

"The only reason you are still alive is because she asked," he clarified, dark sincerity to the statement. Oliver was positive on what would happen next; he would disappoint himself and Felicity, but some things were inevitable. He stepped forward twice, growling out, "This is your last chance, Helena. Put. The crossbow. Down."

"This is the way things were always going to end," replied Helena, voice unhinged. "Did you ever expect anything different? My work is done, now it's time for you to complete yours."

"Don't!"

Looking back to this moment, something Oliver would do for years to come, he would realize Felicity's motions occurring a mere second before he yelled out. She leaned over to Lance's side and he saw her brandish his dropped sidearm. Oliver watched as she closed her eyes, aim it to Helena's form just inches from her, and scream as she pulled the trigger.

A silence fell that was so deafening it made the ears ring.

His throat closed up and his arms went limp in shock, his whole body shutting down basic functions beyond simple staring. He hadn't been this useless in action since his first year on the island. The standing woman collapsed and the gun clattered loudly to the floor. What had happened? How had he not stopped this?

His blonde IT girl was remarkably quiet as she crawled over to the rapidly fading body of her victim, applying pressure to the neck. It was this sight that snapped him out of his paralyzed alarm.

Rushing forward, Oliver skidded to his knees in front of Helena. Gently replacing Felicity's uncertain hands from the wound with his own, he felt under her jaw for a pulse he knew to be dwindling. The amount of blood that gushed from the bullet hole would prove fatal in seconds. Helena's glazed over eyes caught his, somehow twinkling with something akin to success. "Thank you," she managed to gurgle before lying still.

Oliver heaved a great sigh, taking a moment to recompress his fury at his failure. A faint groan from Lance beginning to regain consciousness filtered to his ears. Coming back to himself he glanced up, breath sucked away at the sight of Felicity. She sat on the pavement shaking violently as she stared unblinking at her blood covered hands. Silent tears rolled down, covering her cheeks, and she seemed on the verge of hyperventilating.

His assessment took less than a second as he moved over to her, cautious of how to approach in this fragile state. "Felicity," he called out; speaking without the voice modulator, but lightly enough that only she would hear. At the sound of her name the shakes became more intense and she began to jerkily rub at her hands, only succeeding in sliding the red stain around. Her reaction stabbed at the pit of his gut, wanting nothing more than to remove her pain. Touching her chin with the faintest of touches, he lifted her face to see his, "Hey."

Amidst the blonde's tear streaked face held speckles of blood, most likely Helena's. Though her eyes were on his, he could tell she wasn't remotely focused on him. Trapped in the thousand yard stare that he had seen too many times. And it tore him up to subject her to such terrors. Slipping off one glove, Oliver used his thumb to wipe away the stains along her forehead and cheek. She flinched back just slightly, but allowed him to continue. "You're going to be alright. I promise. I will do everything I can to make it alright." Still trembling severely she closed her eyes, head leaning into his open hand. At her vocal choked cry, Oliver felt relief wash through him knowing her catatonia was short lived.

Heavy hitching breaths wracked her already quaking form. Without hesitation, now sure she wasn't going to retaliate against him, he pulled Felicity into his lap. Her blood covered hands grasped onto his hood as she buried her face into his neck. Holding her with all the strength his arms could give, he wished fervently this was enough to take away her torment.

"I couldn't let you," she hiccupped after a time. The admission he already knew caused him to tighten his grip, wave of guilt over coming him now. Felicity pulled back enough to gaze up at him, "I didn't even see, I just held it up…It's all my fault."

The ungloved hand once more came up to cradle her cheek, her small hand quick to follow and hold onto his. "Don't you dare. You're not going to blame yourself for my mistake."

She gave him that patient forgiving smile, the same one she had given him after the Count incident. "I just wanted to save you," she confessed softly. The next moment Felicity's head lolled back as she lost consciousness.

"Felicity," he called, feeling her breathing shallow and his panic rise. "Felicity!" The sound of sirens echoed somewhere in his mind as he tried to wake her up before discovering her leg wound still bleeding profusely. Of course not all the red on her hands had been Helena's. His jaw clenched at his own stupidity to over look the obvious.

"Back up is on the way, an ambulance will be with them," advised Lance. He looked up to see the detective sporting a slight head cut, but otherwise mobile. "Give her to me. I'll see to it she'll be taken care of."

"The cross bolt must have nicked an artery with her blood loss," he instructed, taking Lance's hand to hold it against her thigh. "Put pressure here." The detective did as he was told, waving the Arrow off to leave.

Standing Oliver delayed his exit, part of him not bearing to leave his Felicity behind despite knowing the impossibility of remaining behind. Lance sighed at his lack of motion, exasperatedly exclaiming, "Look, getting caught isn't going to do her any good. She'll be in safe hands, I won't leave her alone and you'll be the first person I call when I get any information to her condition. Now go!"

Swallowing down the dread coursing throughout his being, he chose to slip into the shadows.

X~X~X~X~X

Consciousness ebbed at Felicity's head. Somewhere in the dense fog of her mind, the comforting sound of known voices pulled her out of the darkness. Her limbs were heavy, her surroundings felt unfamiliar, the smell of an overly sterile environment greeted her nostrils. With great effort, she finally managed to open her eyelids. Hospital room. IV attached to her left hand. A part of her wanted to panic, but something in her veins coursed relaxation. Seemed to with every heart beat. Oliver, Diggle, and Lance were standing near the closed door, speaking intensely in tones so hushed she couldn't make out a sound. Sighing in relief the blonde was able to speak.

"My boys." The conversation ceased as all three men turned to look at her with her scratchy comment. She thought about sitting up, but her body felt as though it had been stuffed full of cotton. Or cotton candy to be more specific. She hummed at amusement at the thought, licking cracked lips to verbalize her next sentence. "Of course my boys would be here. If my high school self could see me now."

Lance remained at the foot of the bed appearing relieved, Dig came to stand just by her left seemingly pleased, while Oliver retained an emotionless mask as he moved to her right. He picked up a water cup with a straw, offering it to her parched mouth. Cold comfort flowed through her chest down to her belly as she drank deeply. Once she had her fill, the cup was taken away and a strong hand clasped onto her. Instinctually she grasped back at it, enjoying the warmth and rough calloused skin attached.

"How are you feeling?" questioned Diggle. "Your injury wasn't very severe, but you lost a lot of blood."

Felicity lifted up the arm that held the IV, the weight of it astonishing a part of her brain that wasn't foggy. "Is this morphine? Cuz I feel like I'm floaty and being hugged all over." The military man's head nodding in confirmation registered in her mind, but all she could focus on was moving her fingers one at a time. Despite the scratchiness in her voice, she couldn't help but giggle. "I understand now why people get hooked on drugs."

"I think she's going to be fine," remarked Lance, amused by her mumbling antics. "We'll collect her statement after she's been discharged, there's absolutely no need to hurry… Might be best if one of you stays. Just to make sure she doesn't say anything she shouldn't."

"Of course," answered Diggle, holding his professional stance at being given the order.

The older man reached to touch her covered leg to obtain her attention, "Glad you made it through."

"Same to you, Detective Lance," she murmured, beaming a smile. The man exited shutting the door behind him. Sighing again, Felicity settled more into the bed she was on. Even with her high state, she could tell the tension was thick in the room. "You said I was going to be fine. Why are you all worried?"

The hand holding her tightened momentarily, enough to cause her to look at it. Her eyes then trailed up to Oliver. She realized then that his blank mask hadn't shifted since she woke, nor had he spoken. Something was wrong.

"How much do you remember, Felicity?" It was Diggle speaking.

Rolling her head over to face him, she scrunched her eyes in a vain attempt to focus. Her lips may have been quirked oddly as well, she was not all together certain. Sounded like a good thought to say out loud. "I'm not all together certain."

"Then you need to get some rest. They're going to probably take the morphine drip away soon since you're responding so well." He leaned over to click up her button, briefly making eye contact with the other man in the room as though asking permission, "Might as well enjoy it while you can."

A rush of euphoria waved over her as she exhaled deeply. Feeling the pull of sleep, she muttered an airy, "Yeah…" before being taken under once more.


End file.
